It stopped on the fifth floor.
Crap. We had not planned on that.
“It’s okay,” Archer said. “This is how you access building B.”
Terror pooled in my stomach as we stepped out into the wide hallway. All of this could be a trap or another setup, but there was no going back.
Archer placed his hand on my shoulder, like he normally would when he was escorting me around. If that made Daemon unhappy, he didn’t show it. His expression remained in the cool disdain that was all Nancy.
There were people in the hall, but no one really paid any attention to us. We made it to the end of the hall and got in a wider elevator. Archer hit a button marked B, and the elevator kicked into gear. Once it stopped, we entered another hall and went straight across to yet another elevator, and then he chose the ninth floor.
Nine floors underground. Ugh.
It seemed like a long way to travel for the little origins to get out, but then again, they were like baby Einsteins on crack.
Mouth dry, I willed my heart to slow down before I had a panic attack. Within seconds, the elevator stopped, and the doors opened. Archer stepped aside, letting Daemon and me walk out first. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw him hit the stop button.
The elevator had opened into a small, windowless lobby. Two soldiers were posted in front of double doors. They straightened immediately when they saw us.
“Ms. Husher. Officer Archer,” the one on the right said, nodding. “May I ask why you’re bringing her down here?”
Daemon stepped forward, clasping his hands together in total Nancy fashion. “I thought it would be a good idea for her to see our greatest achievements in their own environment. Perhaps it will give her a better understanding of things here.”
I had to clamp my mouth shut, because the words that came out of his mouth were so like Nancy that I wanted to laugh. Not a normal laugh, either, but that crazy, hysterical giggling kind.
The guards exchanged looks. Mr. Talkative stepped forward. “I’m not sure if that’s a good idea.”
“Are you questioning me?” said Daemon, in the snootiest Nancy voice ever.
I bit down on my lower lip.
“No, ma’am, but this area is closed to all personnel that don’t have clearance and…and to guests.” Mr. Talkative glanced at me and then Archer. “That was the order you gave.”
“Then I should be able to bring who I want down here, don’t you think?”
With each heartbeat, I knew we were running out of time. The hand on my shoulder tightened, and I knew even Archer was thinking that.
“Y-Yes, but this goes against protocol,” Mr. Talkative stuttered. “We can’t—”
“You know what?” Daemon took a step forward, glancing up. I didn’t see any cameras, but that didn’t mean they weren’t there. “Protocol this.”
Daemon/Nancy threw out his hand and a bolt of light erupted from his palm. The arc of energy split in two, one smacking into the chest of Mr. Talkative and the other into the silent guard. They went down, smoke wafting up from their bodies. The smell of burned clothing and flesh hit my nose.
“Well, that’s one way of doing it,” Archer said drily. “No turning back now.”
Daemon/Nancy cast him a look. “Can you open these doors?”
Archer stepped forward and bent. The red light on the panel flipped green. The airtight seal popped, and the doors slid open.
Half expecting someone to jump out and point a gun at our faces as we walked into an open area of the ninth floor, I held my breath. No one stopped us, but we did get a couple of weird looks from the staff milling about.
The floor was a different layout than the ones I’d seen, shaped like a circle with several doors and long windows. In the middle was something that reminded me of a nursing station.
Archer dropped his hand, and I felt something cool pressed into mine. I looked down, startled to find I was holding a gun. “No safety, Katy.” Then he stepped up beside Daemon. In a low voice, he said, “We’ve got to do this fast. See the double doors there? That’s where they should be at this time of day.” He paused. “They already know we’re here.”
A chill snaked down my spine. The gun felt way too heavy in my hand.
“Well, that isn’t creepy or anything.” Daemon glanced at me. “Stay close.”
I nodded, and then we started around the station toward the double doors with two tiny windows. Archer was right behind us.
A man stepped out. “Ms. Husher—”
Daemon threw his arm out, hitting the guy in the chest with a broad swipe. The man went up in the air, white lab coat flapping like the wings of a dove before he smashed into the window of the center station. The glass splintered but did not break as the man slid down.
Someone screamed; the sound was jarring. Another man in a lab coat rushed toward the opening to the station. Archer spun around, catching him around the neck. A second later, a blur of white shot past my face and smacked into the opposite wall.
Chaos erupted.
Archer blocked the entrance to the station, which must’ve had stuff we didn’t want them to get access to, sending one person flying after another until the remaining staff had huddled against the door—the door we needed to get into.
Daemon stepped before them, the pupils of his eyes turning white. “If I were you guys, I would move out of the way.”
Most of them ran like rats. Two stayed. “We can’t let you do this. You don’t understand what they’re capable of—”
I raised the gun. “Move.”
They moved.
Which was a good thing because I had never shot a gun before. Not like I didn’t know how to use one, but pulling the trigger seemed harder than moving a finger. “Thank you,” I said, and then felt stupid for saying that.
Daemon hurried to the door, still in Nancy form. I saw a panel and realized we’d need Archer. I started to turn to him, but the sound of locks turning echoed like thunder. I whipped around, my breath stalling in my chest as the doors receded into the walls.
Daemon took a step back. So did I. Neither of us had been prepared for this.
Micah met us at the door of the classroom. All the chairs were filled with little boys of different ages. Same haircuts. Same black pants. Same white shirts. All had a look of disturbingly keen intelligence, and they were turned in their seats, staring at us. At the front of the classroom, a woman lay on the floor, facedown.
“Thank you.” Micah smiled, stepping out. He stopped in front of Archer and lifted his arm. A thin black bracelet circled his wrist.
Silently, Archer moved his fingers over the bracelet, and there was a soft click. It slipped from Micah’s arm and clattered to the floor. I had no idea what that was, but I figured it was important.
Micah turned to where the remaining staff huddled together. His head tilted to the side. “All we want to do is play. None of you let us play.”
That’s when the screams started.
The staff started dropping like hot potatoes, hitting the floor on their knees, clutching their heads. Micah kept smiling.
“Come on,” Archer said, wheeling a chair toward the door. He shoved it in place, keeping the door open.
Glancing back at the classroom, I saw that the boys were on their feet, moving toward the door. Yeah, it was definitely time to go.
The men were still unconscious in the hallway, and we hit the elevator on the right. Once inside, Archer pressed the button for the ground level.
Daemon glanced down at my hand. “You sure you’re okay with that?”
I forced a smile. “This is all I have until I get out of this stupid building.”
He nodded. “Just don’t shoot yourself…or me.”
“Or me,” added Archer.
I rolled my eyes. “What faith you guys have in me.”
Daemon lowered his head toward mine. “Oh, I have faith in you. There’s other—”
“Don’t even think about saying something dirty or trying to
kiss me while you’re still in Nancy’s body.” I put a hand on his chest, holding him back.
Daemon chuckled. “You’re no fun.”
“You two need to focus on the task at hand—”
A siren went off somewhere in the building. The elevator jerked to a stop on the third floor. Lights dimmed, and then a red light flicked on in the ceiling.
“Now it’s really going to get fun,” Archer said as the elevator door opened.
In the hall, soldiers and staff rushed about, calling out orders. Archer took out the first soldier who looked our way and shouted. Daemon did the same. A soldier pulled a gun, and I lifted mine, squeezing off a round. The kickback startled me. The bullet hit the guy in the leg.
Daemon lost his hold on Nancy’s form, slipping into his own. His eyes were wide as he stared at me.
“What?” I asked. “You didn’t think I’d do it?”
“Stairwell,” Archer shouted.
“Didn’t realize you shooting a gun would be so sexy.” Daemon took my free hand. “Let’s go.”
We raced down the hallway a few feet behind Archer. Overhead lights went out, replaced by flashing red and yellow domes. Archer and Daemon were throwing blasts of energy balls like it was going out of style, causing most of the soldiers to stay back. We passed a set of elevators. Two of them opened and a handful of origins stepped out. We kept going, but I had to look back—I had to see what they were going to do. I had to know.
They were the perfect diversion.
Everyone’s attention was on them. One of the little boys had stopped in the middle of the hallway. He bent and picked up a fallen handgun, and I saw that his wrist was bare of the bracelet. The gun smoked and then melted, re-forming into the shape of a small ball.
The little boy giggled.
And then he spun, throwing the twisted wreck of a gun right at a soldier creeping up on him. The gun went straight through the man’s stomach.
My step faltered. Holy crap.
Had we done the right thing letting them loose? What would happen if they got out—out into the real world? The kind of damage they could render was astronomical.
Daemon’s grip on my hand tightened, pulling me back to the task at hand. I’d have time to worry about them later. Hopefully.
We rounded the corner at full speed, and I was suddenly forehead-level with a pistol, so close that I could see the finger on the trigger, see the tiny spark of it firing. A scream got stuck in my throat. Daemon roared, the sound final as it bounced around my skull.
The bullet stopped, its tip singeing my forehead. It didn’t go any farther. Just stopped. Air leaked out of my lungs.
Daemon snatched the bullet away, then yanked me to his chest as we spun, and there was Micah several feet behind us, one hand raised.
“That wasn’t very nice,” he said in that monotone child voice. “I like them.”
The soldier blanched, and then he was on the floor face-first—not screaming or clutching his head—and blood pooled out from under him.
Another origin appeared behind Micah, and then another and another and another. The soldiers blocking the stairwell hit the floors. Thump. Thump. Thump. A path was cleared.
“Come on,” Archer urged.
Turning back to Micah, my gaze locked with the child’s. “Thank you.”
Micah nodded.
With one last look, I turned and darted around the bodies. The thin soles of my shoes slipped on the wet floors—floors slippery with blood. It was already seeping through the bottom of my shoes. I couldn’t think about that now.
Archer pushed open the stairwell door, and as it swung shut behind us, Daemon spun on me, his hands suddenly gripping my upper arms. He roughly pulled me against him and up on the tips of my toes.
“I almost lost you. Again.” His lips brushed over the hot spot on my forehead, and then he kissed me, a deep and forceful kiss that tasted of residual fear, desperation, and anger. The kiss was dizzying in its intensity, and when he pulled back I felt stripped bare.
“No time for swooning,” he said with a wink.
Then we were tearing up the stairs, hand in hand. Archer caught a soldier on the landing. With a brutal throw, he tossed him over the railing. A series of sickening cracks caused my stomach to lurch violently.
Soldiers spilled out onto the second-floor landing. In their hands weren’t normal pistols but what looked like stun guns.
Using the railing, Daemon let go of my hand and vaulted up a level. A soldier blew past me, landing two levels down on his side. Archer was right behind Daemon. He ripped a stun gun away and tossed it down to me. Switching the pistol to my left hand, I hurried up the rest of the stairs and squeezed on the first soldier I was near.
Like I suspected, it was some kind of Taser. Two wires shot out, smacking the soldier in the neck. The man started twitching like he was having a seizure and went down. The clip disengaged, allowing me to hit the one swinging on Archer.
Once the landing was clear, Daemon dragged two of the unconscious men to the door, stacking them atop each other.
“Come on,” Archer urged as he rounded the landing, shedding the long-sleeve camo top. He reached to his neck, tucking dog tags under his white shirt.
With all the onyx and diamond in the building, I was pretty useless without my gun and Taser. The muscles in my legs were starting to burn, but I ignored them and pushed on.
When we reached ground level, Archer looked over his shoulder at us. He didn’t speak out loud, and the message was directed at both of us. We don’t try to take any vehicles from the hangar. Once outside, we’ll be faster than anything they have. We head south toward Vegas, on Great Basin Highway. If we get separated, we meet at Ash Springs. That’s about eighty miles from here.
Eighty miles?
There’s a hotel called The Springs. It’s used to having weird people show up. While I wondered what kind of weird people, and realized that was a stupid thing to even be thinking about, Archer reached into his back pocket and pulled out a wallet. He shoved cash in Daemon’s hand. This should be enough.
Daemon nodded curtly, and then Archer looked at me. “Ready?”
“Yes,” I croaked, my fingers tightening around the guns.
With fear so thick I could taste its bitter tang, I took a deep breath and nodded again, mostly for my own benefit.
The door opened, and for the first time in what had to be months, I breathed in fresh air from the outside. Dry but clean air, not manufactured. Hope bubbled up, giving me the strength to power forward. I could see a slice of sky beyond the vehicles, the color of dusk, pale blue and orange-red. It was the most beautiful thing I’d ever seen. Freedom was right there.
But between us and freedom was a small army of soldiers. Not as many as I’d expected, but I assumed that a lot were still underground, dealing with the origins.
Daemon and Archer wasted no time engaging. Bursts of white light lit up the hangar, ricocheting off tan Humvees, tearing through canvas. Sparks flew. Punches were thrown in close combat. I did my part—Tasing anyone I could get close to.
As I darted around the fallen bodies, I spied an artillery load in the back of a flatbed truck. “Daemon!”
He twisted around and saw what I was pointing at. I took off, narrowly avoiding being tackled. I turned, squeezing off another round. Metal prongs dug into the back of the soldier. Bright white light tinged in red crackled over Daemon’s shoulders, wrapping around his right arm. Energy pulsed, arcing over the space between him and the truck.
Seeing what he was about to do, several soldiers ran, taking cover behind the large Humvees. I did the same, heading for a row of vehicles as Daemon hit the back of the truck, and it went up like the Fourth of July. The explosion rocked through the hangar, a powerful wave that shook my insides and knocked me flat on my butt. Thick gray smoke billowed through the enclosure. In an instant, I lost sight of Daemon and Archer. Over the popping explosions, I thought I heard Sergeant Dasher.
I was stunned into
immobility for a second, blinking out the acrid stench of burning metal and gunpowder. A second was all it took.
Out of the heavy smoke, a soldier appeared. I sat up, whipping the stun gun around.
“Oh, no you don’t,” he said, catching my arm in both hands, above my elbow and below, and twisting.
Pain shot up my arm and burst along my shoulders. I held on, rolling my body so that I broke the brutal hold. The soldier was trained, and even with all the work Daedalus had put into training me, I was no match. He caught my arm again, the pain sharper and more intense. I dropped the stun gun, and the soldier landed a stinging blow across my cheek.
I don’t know what happened next. The other gun was in my left hand. My ears were ringing. Smoke burned my eyes. My brain had clicked into survival mode. I fired the gun. Warm liquid sprayed me across the face.
With the gun being in my left hand, my aim was slightly off. I hit him in the left side of his chest. I wasn’t even sure what part of him I was aiming at, but I hit him. There was a gurgling sound that I found so strange, because I could hear it over the yelling, over the screaming, and over the shells still going off. Nausea rolled up my stomach.
A hand landed on my shoulder.
Screaming, I whirled and came within two seconds of offing Daemon. My heart almost stopped. “Dammit. You scared the crap out of me.”
“You were supposed to stay with me, Kitten. That wasn’t staying with me.”
Sending him a look, I edged around the back of a Humvee. The encroaching night sky beckoned us like a siren. Archer was a few Humvees down. He caught sight of us, looked at the opening, and nodded.
“Wait,” Daemon said.
Dasher appeared out one of the doors, surrounded by guards. His usually neat hair was a mess. His uniform was wrinkled. He was scanning the strewn debris, issuing orders I couldn’t make sense of.
Daemon looked up, his gaze tracking the floodlights. A half grin appeared, and he caught my stare, winking. “Follow me.”
We backtracked, creeping along the side of the Humvee. Peering out around the scorched canvas, I saw the coast was clear. Hurrying down the row of vehicles, Daemon stopped in front of a metal pole that rose to the ceiling.
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